[Solo][Crafting] Suit Yourself

[Deleted]

By some stroke of grand luck, hard work, and jolly cooperation, Noihara had come to grow into one of the largest and most widely known guilds in Londinium. The problematic rumors about both Noihara and its guild master had finally started to die down, and Dumah could once again walk the streets of post-apocalyptic, pre-modern London without being shot full of piercing glares that could put any masterwork of a dagger to shame. However, this was not a day that the relieved young man was spending flaunting his new freedom and acceptance, for he had realized his guild was missing something vital. Something so crucial, an aspect so paramount that no self-respecting guild would dare be caught dead without one!

Dumah walked about the inside of the guildhall's clothier, preparing himself for a large amount of crafting. He had grown somewhat complacent as of late, but it was time to get back to work; with light shining in through the large window of the cathedral's inner sanctum, there was a nice, evenly distributed glow throughout the room as it was the perfect time, the sun in just the right place to beam its radiant shine through the massive window just perfectly. Such a glow put Dumah in a bit of a joyous mood, so much so that he barely cared about the incredible amount of tailoring work that he knew was to come. With a soft, handsome smile on his face, Dumah grabbed all of the materials he would need: massive rolls of fabric in a disparity of colors, numerous spools of thread, the colors of which matched the aforementioned fabrics, and his notebook in which to write some notes. He stepped away from the wall where all of the tailoring supplies had been stowed away, making his way back to the large table in the center of the room, placing his gathered materials and resources into neatly organized piles by his work station. As he calmly pulled a seat from the table, he sat himself down in a smooth motion which seemed to emphasize the calm of the silence, the shining light of the sun perfectly adding to the serenity.

With his chair scooted back into the table, Dumah picked up the notebook he had set down, the first half and a few of the pages in the back already filled with all manner of notes, sketches, and other entries. He opened to around the middle, where he had jotted down a request his guild's Guardian and tank had put in, asking for some formal wear. He looked over the details included in the human's commissioned suit, still thinking he was a bit silly for wanting so much blue. "With only one color, there will simply be far too much. It needs a secondary, perhaps even a tertiary, color to blend it all together well."

As he spoke softly to himself, a familiar voice chimed in behind him. "Hey hey hey, Dumama! Say now, what have you got there~?"

Words: 500 | Total Words: 500
Tags
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

"Hey hey hey, Dumama! Say now, what have you got there~? Hold on a second, didn't I just say that...?" The familiar, yet nonetheless unexpected, voice chimed in suddenly behind Dumah, causing the once calm Spellsword to jump a bit in his chair. Lucky for him, he had not started tailoring, lest he likely stab himself with a sewing needle or tear his work, prompting him to either start anew or try and mend the break.

Dumah recognized the voice nearly instantly, internally groaning and hanging his head in despair and shattered serenity as he spoke. "Please tell me that is not you, Ly-..." He stopped his speech as the intruder disrupted him, the unfortunately familiar voice chiming in to speak as Dumah expected it would, as it often would.

"I tell you that it is me, Lyssamanya! I'm Lyssamanya! Lyssamanya, ya hear!" The infamously hyper Enchanter shook Dumah, a firm grip on his shoulders as he- "Hey hey, Mr. Narrator-sama, I know that we just met and all, but..." Is... Is he talking to me...? Are you talking to me...? "Of course I'm talking to you, silly~! I always do this. <3 At least, I always do it to MY Narrator-kun. Oh, but this is solely platonic! I could never cheat on my dear Narrator-kun~" ... I... He... I do not know what to say, actually...

As his head throbbed a bit from the intense shaking, his shoulders beginning to ache and his back hitting the hard wood of the chair, Dumah was both battered and confused by the Enchanter's antics. "Who are you speaking to, Lyssamanya?" It was a very valid question, one that even I was eager to hear the answer to.

Taken quite aback with an overly emphasized reaction, Lyssamanya practically leaped back, his fingers on his chest as if he were holding his shocked heart. "Se tutante merde! I mean, SAINTE PUTAINE DE MERDE!! At least, according to Google..." Lyssamanya's eyes were wide, his expression reminiscent of that one might bear were they to see a ghost. Though, one could suppose ghosts may be commonplace in this world. "And by the way, Narrator-sama!" Oh dear... "I told this to Narrator-kun, so it's nothing personal, but could you please refer to me by my full name?" ... Dare I ask what your full name is...? "I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!!" Dammit... "HEAR ME WORLD, FOR MY NAME IS..." Lyssamanya struck a heroic pose, standing on the table with one foot on a tilted back chair, striking a pose just as heroic as it was flamboyant. "LYSSAMANYA, DARK LORD OF ALL!! And you could describe this pose as the one Jonathan Joestar strikes in episode four of Phantom Blood!" Who...? What...? "I haven't even watched JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, so I don't know what I'm saying. I rarely do!" The chair he had his foot planted on fell back, which would lead to any normal person falling to a painful landing. However, this was Lyssamanya... With a graceful leap, a backflip, and a twirl, he landed elegantly on the stone floor of the clothier, sticking the landing. "TEN!!" He bowed to an imaginary audience, smiling widely before turning his attention back to Dumah. "Anyways! I am often compared to Spiderman." He stood there standing proud, losing his joyous smile suddenly. "I mean Deadpool- SHIT!!"

Trying to drown out the interloper's insanity, the tailor was already back at work on his sewing and tailoring, piecing together cut up sheets of colored fabric to form a nice, elegant suit. Lyssamanya knocked on Dumah's noggin, upset that he was being ignored like this. "Hellooooo?! Earth! To! Dumah!" It was no use though, the man was once again on a roll in his work. "Don't you dare tell me it's no use! I believe in the me who believes in myself! FOR MY DRILL IS THE DRILL THAT WILL PIERCE THE HEAVENS!! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM?!"

Words: 655 | Total Words: 1155
Tags
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

With his work nearly completed, Dumah was just relieved that the first of many crafts was just about finished. At this rate, it would not be long before he could relax a bit - at least, assuming Lyssamanya were to grow bored and leave by the time the guild master had finished his tailoring.

"I'm booored!" Lyssamanya moaned in- "I told you! My name is Lyssamanya, Dark Lord of All! Say it right! AND ACTION!!" ... Lyssamanya, Dark Lord of All moaned in sheer boredom, sitting in one of the chairs and sulking on the table, lying his head on the wood. "Hey! Dumbo, do you like riddles?"

It was this sudden mention of riddles that caught Dumah's intrigue, making him pause for a split second before continuing with his tailoring. Perhaps indulging the Enchanter in these puzzles would bring about even more boredom in the caster, leading to a quicker resolution to this distracted and interruption. "Yes, I enjoy riddles at times. Do you know any?"

Lyssamanya shot up, a wide smile on his face and his fists excitedly clenched in joy. "Do I?!" He turned at an angle as if he were portraying another character in a one-man show, speaking in a frail old woman's voice. "Would you...?" He shot back to his prior angle, repeating his line. "Would I?!" Once again, the cycle reset and he turned again, pantomiming holding out a tray of some sort, or a bowl it seemed from the angle his hands were at. "Would you...?" He turned towards Dumah again. "Would I-?!" This time, instead of transitioning to the old woman's angle, he turned to a third character, staring angrily at Lyssamanya. "Rada rada!" He turned back to Dumah, an eerily professional expression on his face. "Yes. I would. Thank you." He stood there, silent for a moment, staring off into space... "... What were we talking about?" It had seemed that in his little... show... he had completely forgotten about the riddles- "YES! That's right! Riddles! Okay, you ready for this Dumamoto?" The guild master opened his mouth, barely being offered a second to even begin to answer. "Great! Now then, train A leaves station A at exactly seven in the morning, traveling thirty-eight miles per hour. Train B leaves station B at exactly nine in the morning, traveling two miles per hour. If station A and station B are four thousand miles apart, at what time will the two trains run over George Washington and Oda Nobunaga respectively?"

Dumah thought this through, mentally calculating everything. "Let me think here... By the time train B leaves station B at nine o' clock, train A will have traveled seventy-six- Wait, what...?" Dumah had heard this cliche of a math problem countless times before - who hasn't, really? It was so expected that his preconception completely overwrote the actual question asked. He was stunned, speechless at the random question he had been presented with.

Lyssamanya had a sudden expression of revelation, his eyes going wide. "Oh! Right, sorry!" It was a bit odd to see the Enchanter- "..." ... Dark Lord of All... catching himself in the act of his insanity. "Sorry about that, Dumah. I forgot you blokes from jolly old England use metrics." I take back everything I just said... "So, Romeo and Cinderella are on their way to the ball. However, a train passes right by them, and when it is gone they are found dead in a small pool of water and shattered glass. How did they die?"

At the very least, this riddle made infinitely more sense than the one Dumah had been presented with before. He had to think a good while on it. "Hmm..." He returned to finishing the first suit he was working on, sewing the last of the loose ends and setting down the completed suit as he turned to Lyssamanya, proposing an answer. "Someone in the train threw a water balloon filled with glass." He held his chin again, turning away as he realized something. "No, this could not be it... The glass would puncture the balloon..."

As Dumah returned to his work, setting the name and description of the finished formal wear, Lyssamanya, Dark Lord of All presented the answer. "Thanks for using my full title. And nope! The answer is they're both fish, and the vibrations from the train knocked the fish bowl off the table." He seemed quite proud of his perplexing puzzle, Dumah simply sighing at it.

"I see..." He spoke sarcastically, inputting the name and description for his new craft. "Noiharan Formal Suit. A luxurious set of men's formal wear, tailored specifically and exclusively for the male members of Noihara. The modern fashions came about in the time of the industrial revolution during the late 18th century that drastically changed the elaborately embroidered and jewelled formal clothing into the simpler clothing of the British Regency period, which gradually evolved to the stark formality of the Victorian era. It was in the search for more comfort that the loosening of rules gave rise in the late 19th century to the modern lounge suit."

Words: 848 | Total Words: 2003
Tags
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Dumah set aside the first of many formal wear to be crafted, his tailoring work sufficient in making him proud of his work, the finished suit being a presentable piece of attire that any Noiharan would look dashing in. He smiled a bit, putting it to the side as he grabbed another sheet of fabric with which to begin the next piece. "One down..." Dumah muttered to himself as he leaned over towards his notebook, marking a thick line through the top item on the list of Noiharans. 'Sayinh'

Lyssamanya was still with the tailor, because of course he was; fate was not kind enough to grant the Spellsword a calm, relaxing day. As Dumah began work on another formal set, this time tailored to be worn by a young woman. He began to cut the countless pieces of cloth he would need, the end product becoming an assortment of all sorts of shapes and colors. "Hey Dumah, can I ask you something? Of course I can." Lyssamanya leaned back in his chair, his feet up on the large oak table. The self-proclaimed Dark Lord of All seemed a bit solemn, as if he were - for once - speaking seriously. "You know Kat...? Of course you do." What in the hell was he planning to say? With the tone in his voice, it sounded as though he were nervous, bracing himself to confess to a high school crush... "Well... The thing is..." Dumah didn't know how to react to the scene ripped straight from a poor romance anime. Of course, everything felt normal again once Lyssamanya asked his question. "... Where did she get that coat?! I LOOOVE Fire Emblem! I also like Disgaea! Especially Disgaea five, Christo is such a hottie~ I think Disgaea four had the best characters though. Disgaea five was really fun and had the best systems and mechanics, but Disgaea four had a better cast of characters, especially when compared to Disgaea five's band of cliches!"

Dumah had done his best to ignore the latter half of the Enchanter's- I mean, I am sorry, the Dark Lord of All's banter and ranting about some game from the old world. "I am afraid I do not know. Perhaps she commissioned it from another tailor, as I was not the one to craft it. If you would like, I could ask her where she-"

Lyssamanya interrupted the guild master, seemingly still ranting about the prior topic. "Disgaea four was so much fun! I hated grinding in it though, but the characters were just so great! Valvatorez will always be my favorite Disgaea character, regardless of how hot Christo is. And speaking of hot! Hnnng, Fenrich, baby~"

As Lyssamanya went on endlessly about a topic that had already lost Dumah, failing to keep up with the younger man's insanity, Dumah organized his cut pieces of cloth, preparing himself as he took a long piece of thread from a spool, unwinding it and feeding it through the eye of the small steel needle, cutting the string once it was read to be used.

Words: 513 | Total Words: 2516
Tags
Coding by Sayha of LH